Broken Heart

By Michael Wooten

A note on this story

This story is released under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-NoDerivative Works 3.0 Unported License.Here’s a summary of the license:http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/ Attribution. The licensor permits others to copy, distribute,display, and perform the work. In return, licensees must give theoriginal author credit. No Derivative Works. The licensor permits others to copy,distribute, display and perform only unaltered copies of the work —not derivative works based on it. Noncommercial. The licensor permits others to copy, distribute,display, and perform the work. In return, licensees may not usethe work for commercial purposes—unless they get thelicensor’s permission.

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Dedication:

I would like to dedicate this story to my wife for her love and support,and to Susie, my inspiration. _______________________________________________________________________ _ The old man sat at the kitchen table. Outside in the hallway there was a line of people waiting to see him. The people in the hallway were each clutching a blank cassette, but more than that, they were clutching their dreams, their hopes, and their fears.The next person was sent in. She was in her late teens; she wore round glasses that hidher face and had long dark hair that hung straight down on either side of her face. The oldman motioned to an old, beat up, cigarette stained tape recorder that sat on the table. Sheobediently put the tape in and pressed record. The old man gingerly pulled a cigarette outof his pack and laid it back down on the table. He lifted up a nicotine colored hand andflicked the wheel on his lighter; the wheel struck a flint, creating a spark that lights up the

wick, then he touched the flame to the tip of his cigarette. The tip began to glow red. Ashe sucked on the other end of the cigarette he puffed out some smoke several times before he inhaled, taking in a deep breath, he drew the smoke down into his ancientlungs. He left the cigarette dangling from his mouth and took a drag every now andagain; he then turned his attention back to the cards on the table. He picked them up andstarted to shuffle them, and then he dealt them out, seven cards, the first one facing up.He dealt out the cards until this hand of solitaire was ready, then he drew the first card, aten of diamonds. He placed it under the jack of spades, and his hands know the rest. Theonly sounds in the room were the clicking of the cards and the breathing of the two people left alone in the room.

***

Bran sits on the hovertrain, waiting for it to come to his stop. He sits with his headon his hand staring out the window. His glasses cast a phosphorescent light across hisface as he absentmindedly checks his email and updates his blog, his other hand slightlytwitching as he types his responses. With a wave of his hand he casts all the openwindows to the dock. His stop is next and he doesn’t want to be so distracted that hemisses it. He’s been late one too many times, and although he doesn’t need the job hedoesn’t want to get fired. Bran’s mother got him the job; it’s only a part time job mindinga store, to build Bran’s character so she keeps on telling him.The store is one of those new age retro stores, one of the many stores that have boomed since the invention of the machine. Bran has often wondered why he has to go tothis shop day after day, it’s not like he needs to be here. He makes plenty of money ragingcampaigns across the virtual fields of war and selling his short stories. The store is, for the most part, automated, provided that people are wearing. All of the store’s merchandiseis equipped with arphids and if the customers are wearing, they will have at least onearphid somewhere on them. The arphids link up to the main computer and if a customer walks out with something in his hand a sensor by the door will pull his information fromthe arphid and automatically charge his account. If a customer tried to walk out withsomething and had no money or arphids, the front door would automatically lock and the police would be called. This would be a royal pain in the ass for Bran, who would thenhave to be locked up in the store with some would-be thief until the police decided toarrive. So Bran is only needed for those rare occasions when a non-wearer comes into thestore, and when new stock arrives. It leaves him plenty of time to surf the net, write, andtalk to friends.Bran was an unassuming teenager. He was tall and thin with dark wavy hair andlight blue eyes. If you asked him, however, he would say that he was hopelessly averagelooking and fat. Too many years spent looking at pictures of digitally manipulated modelshad given him a poor body image. He had a girlfriend and he thought that he was in lovewith her, but deep down inside he knew that she wasn’t the one. She was too different;she was too cold and distant. He wanted someone with warmth and passion, but for somereason he was determined to make this work out. Maybe it was because of his mother,once she made up her mind to do something, she would move hell and high water to do

so.They had met at a New Year’s Eve party. Bran didn’t want to go. He was feelinganxious and socially inadequate that night, and he really just wanted to stay home. Henever really saw the appeal of New Year’s Eve anyway. It’s only fun when you’re a kidwho gets to stay up past bedtime or an adult who gets to go out drinking, although toBran, that doesn’t sound that appealing either.His mother finally coaxed him out of his hiding place and went with him to the party. Bran was sure that this party would be just like the last one, parents upstairsdrinking and having fun, with the children relegated to the basement. Normally thatwould be okay, but with this crowd, Bran and his friend Thom were two of the oldest, sothey felt like they were basically forced into babysitting.This time was different. Thom was there with another friend, Jen, and someoneBran had never met before. After they had said their hellos, Jen introduced Bran to her friend, Sarah. She was tall and thin with short red hair, sharp blue eyes and thin pink lips.Right from the start Bran couldn’t take his eyes off of her. After a little while theydecided to go to Jen’s house, which was right around the corner and, since her parentswere at the party, completely empty.On the short walk to Jen’s house Bran could faintly hear Jen and Sarah sub-vocalizing to each other. He watched as they carried on their private conversation. Theywould look at each other and giggle and give each other knowing glances. Bran could tellthat they were plotting something. What it was he had no way of knowing, but it filledhim with dread. Sensing his rising anxiety, the halo of electronic equipment surroundinghis brain started to flood his neural receptors with serotonin, instantly calming him. Hetried to ping Thom on his neural network to ask him what was going on, but Thom hadnothing to offer but his own confusion.The house was dark; they had only the moon and the streetlight out front to guidethem through the dark and empty house. They settled in the living room amongst theshadows and dust motes. They sat in awkward silence for a couple of minutes, while Jenand Sarah kept pm’ing each other, leaving Thom and Bran in the dark. Suddenly Jensuggested that they should play truth or dare. Everyone thought that it would be a goodidea, everyone but Bran. They went ahead and started. Jen went first. She chose Bran andhe asked for a truth.“How are you going to die, Bran,” she asked.“I don’t know,” he replied. He knew where she was going with this. She wanted toknow if he had had the machine test his blood, so Sarah could decide if he was worthdating.“You mean you haven’t been tested yet? How can you stand not knowing?”